


Everything

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Professor Sam Campbell AU [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5980023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who will Professor Campbell end up with, Cara or the reader?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything

 

You’d stood in front of the microwave for so long that the tea you’d been trying to warm up had actually gotten cold. Again. You sighed, grumbling under your breath, and stabbed at the the buttons, near tears once again. 

You were tired of crying. The tears had been falling steadily since Sam’s text message last night. It was a good-bye, you knew it. It had to be. You couldn’t imagine a scenario in which Sam chose you.

You finally managed to warm up the tea, taking it gingerly from the microwave and making your way back to the living room. You’d just set it down when your cell phone rang.

“Hello?” you murmured quietly.

“Hey, it’s Sam,” he said. “Is it alright if I come over? We need to talk.”

“Sam -” you protested. You didn’t want him coming over and feeding you a bunch of lame-ass excuses that would only break your heart more. “You don’t have to explain anything. It’s okay -”

“Y/N, please,” Sam begged. 

“Fine,” you replied. “You can have five minutes.”

You disconnected the call, dropping the phone to the table and picking up your tea. You sat staring at the door to your apartment, sipping it and waiting. You briefly considered putting on a pair of jeans, maybe a clean t-shirt, but quickly discounted the idea. You were staying in your pajamas with your hair a mess and yesterday’s eyeliner smudged beneath your eyes. Since Sam was coming to break up with you, he could deal with the way you looked.

You just wanted all of this over. You were exhausted, mentally drained, unable to think straight. You wanted to move past this, start healing. Your heart couldn’t take anymore. First Michael had destroyed you, made you fearful of ever loving anyone again, convinced no one would or even could love you. And now, well, you’d let yourself care again, let yourself love again, and you were going to get your heart broken. Again.

The quiet knock at your door drew you to your feet. You felt like you were floating outside your body as you moved across the room, looked through the peephole and opened if for Sam. You turned your back on him immediately and returned to the couch, throwing yourself onto it and pulling the blanket back over your lap.

You looked pointedly at the clock on the wall and back at Sam. “I said five minutes.”

Sam smiled tiredly and sat down in the chair across from you. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. He stared intently at you.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I was stupid. I never should have let you leave the restaurant like that.” He pushed his hair out of his face, frowning. “I don’t even have a good explanation for the way I acted. Cara coming by the house, asking me to take her back, it...I guess it threw me into a tailspin. After we broke up, all I could think about was what I could do to get her back, how I could fix it. I was convinced I’d never be okay again, that the life I knew was over.” He shook his head, his eyes never once leaving yours as he spoke. “Then I picked your bar to get drunk in and you were...nice to me. Invited me back to your place for dinner.”

You couldn’t help smiling at the memory of that night. Every memory with Sam made you smile.

Sam stood up and moved across the room, moved like a rush of wind through a stand of trees, sitting beside you before you could even blink. His leg was resting against yours, one of his hands engulfing both of yours, his arm resting on the back of the couch. He was so close you could smell the clean scent of his soap and the gum he was chewing.

“I’m happy with you, Y/N, happier than I’ve been in months,” he murmured. “Including the last few months I was with Cara.” His thumb rubbed tiny circles over your knuckles. “I didn’t realize that at first. All I could think about was that getting back together with Cara would be familiar and comfortable. I thought I wanted that.” He cupped the back of your head, pulling you toward him and brushing a kiss over your temple. “But I don’t. I don’t love Cara anymore, I don’t want to be with Cara anymore. I’m...I’m...falling in love with you, Y/N,” he said.

Your heart seemed to stutter in your chest and you couldn’t seem to form words. Your brow furrowed in confusion, not sure you believed him. God, you wanted to believe him, wanted to know that he was falling for you just like you’d already fallen for him. 

“Please believe me,” Sam whispered.  He kissed you, just a graze of his lips over yours, soft and gentle.

You shook your head, fear making you deny everything you were feeling. You were terrified, terrified it wasn’t real, terrified it was all a dream and you would wake up to find that Sam didn’t love you, that you weren’t worthy of anyone loving you, just like Michael had always told you.

“Y/N, look at me,” Sam said, taking your chin in his hand, forcing you to stare into those golden flecked, green eyes. “I am falling in love with you, you have to believe me.” He slipped off the couch, kneeling in front of you. He held both of your hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Say something.”

You swallowed down your fear, leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. “I feel the same way,” you said.

“Yeah,” he smiled, almost shyly. “So, you’re falling in love with me, too, huh?” He put his hands on your waist and pulled you to the edge of the couch so your knees were on either side of his hips, the blanket falling to the floor.. He brushed his nose along your jaw until he reached your mouth. “I want to hear you say it,” he breathed.

You tangled your fingers in his long brown hair, pulling him to you. “I’m falling in love with you, Sam,” you whispered against his mouth.

He growled a little, low in the back of his throat, as he pulled your legs around his waist and gathered you into his arms. He nibbled at your lower lip until you opened your mouth and then he was kissing you, a mind-blowing kiss that left you gasping for breath.

You moaned as the tips of his fingers slid beneath your sweatshirt and his cold hands settled on your skin. He yanked your sweatshirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. He rose up on his knees, laying you against the back of the couch, his lips kissing a hot, wet trail down your neck to your breasts, licking slowly at first one nipple then the other. He pulled one between his teeth, tugging at it, his hands sliding up and down your sides.

“God, you feel so good,” he moaned, rocking his hips into yours, the thick length of his erection making you ache.

You pushed his jacket off his shoulders to the floor and hurriedly unbuttoned the buttons of his shirt, peeling it off of him, only to get to the t-shirt under the thick flannel. You laughed, muttering “damn layers” under your breath as you pulled it over his head, making Sam laugh, too. He pulled you back into his arms, lifting you up so he could sit on the couch with you in his lap. He brushed the hair off of your face as he kissed you, cupping your cheek in his huge hand.

You reached between you, snapped open his jeans and pulled him free, stroking him roughly, groaning a little because it always drove you crazy that he so often went commando beneath his jeans. You felt like you hadn’t touched him in forever, when in reality, it had only been a couple of days. It still amazed you that you couldn’t seem to get enough of him. You pushed yourself to your feet and quickly yanked off your sweatpants and underwear, dropping back into Sam’s lap before he even had time to move. You ground yourself against him, even though he was still partially trapped beneath the thick denim of his jeans, your fingers tangled in his hair, your body immediately amped up to the highest level of arousal. 

Sam continued kissing you, lifting his body just enough to push his pants down and kick them away once he’d toed off his boots. He put his hands on your hips, pulling you back against him, your pussy sliding along his cock, both of you moaning at the feel of it. He cupped your ass, his abdominal muscles taut as he stretched up to kiss you, his eyes half-lidded, dark with lust. He flipped you to your back, awkwardly lying you across the small couch, kneeling in front of you. His cock nudged at your entrance, slipping in just a little bit, drawing a startled gasp from you. He stopped, kissing you gently as he slowly rocked his hips, giving you time to adjust to his substantial size. 

“Sam,” you moaned, digging your fingers into his shoulders and pushing your hips toward his, almost desperate to feel more of him.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, sliding in another inch, his mouth hovering over yours, his hands softly caressing you.

You chased his mouth with yours, needing him, wanting him, lusting for him. He caught your lip in his, biting it lightly before kissing you breathless and with one final push, seating himself completely inside you.

You threw your head back, squeezed your eyes closed, moaning as you felt the burning stretch of Sam filling you. You drew in several gulping breaths as you braced your arms above your head and pushed yourself toward Sam. He slid his arms around your waist, lifting you up and thrusting forward, easing deeper into you, pulling you down onto him. He dropped his head, nuzzling your breasts, soft, light kisses that spoke more than any words ever could. 

You surrendered yourself to him, let yourself be consumed by him, let go of all the emotions you’d been holding back over the last few weeks. You let yourself feel for the first time in more than a year, let Sam push you to heights you’d only imagined reaching, heights you were only able to attain because it was Sam and he was your everything.

When it was over, you and Sam lay wrapped in each other’s arms between the coffee table and the couch, the old quilt thrown over your naked bodies. He kept kissing you, your cheek, neck, temple, shoulders, everything. He delicately traced patterns on your skin, his touch everything you’d craved. You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You have a beautiful smile,” he murmured. He kissed the corner of your mouth.

“You are an ass-kisser,” you laughed. 

Sam laughed, shook his head, and squeezed your hip. “Come back to my place with me,” he said. “I owe you dinner. We’ll eat, make love and then if I haven’t completely worn you out, I’ll let you pick what we watch on Netflix.”

You were nodding before he finished talking, pressing a kiss to his unshaven cheek. You pushed yourself to your feet, taking the quilt with you, wrapping it around yourself. You winked at Sam. “Let’s see who wears who out first.”

* * *

You woke up slowly, the smell of coffee filling your nose. You rolled over, stretching your arm out to find an empty space beside you. You sat up and pushed a hand through your hair, your fingers catching in the knots. You flung the blankets off and moved to the edge of the bed. You ached everywhere, but it was a good ache, a satisfied ache. You traced a finger over the bruises on the insides of your thighs, bruises shaped like Sam’s fingers. You blushed as your gaze fell on the scarves on the bedside table and one still tied to the headboard. Who knew your mild mannered English professor had that side to him? You couldn’t wait to explore more of it.

The enticing smell of coffee finally drew you to your feet. You stepped into the bathroom, washed your face, brushed your teeth, and pulled your hair into a ponytail, then grabbed a t-shirt from the chair by the window, throwing it on with the yoga pants you’d been wearing. The shirt was huge on you, nearly reaching your knees. It was obviously Sam’s.

The master bedroom was in the back of the house, down a long hallway. You’d only been here a couple of times; the two of you had usually stayed at your apartment because it was close to the bar and only a few blocks from the university. You loved that he’d brought you back here yesterday, it was like a promise fulfilled.

“Sam?” you called. 

“Kitchen!” he answered.

You were halfway down the hallway, almost to the living room, when the doorbell rang. “I got it,” you yelled, detouring to step into the foyer and answer the door.

You threw the locks on the door and pulled it open, cold air rushing over you and making you shiver. Cara stood on the doorstep, bundled into a heavy jacket, an expectant look on her face. You stepped back in surprise.

You were obviously not who she expected to see. She also took a step back, a startled look on her face. She opened her mouth, then immediately snapped it closed. She cleared her throat and shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. 

“Uh, is Sam here?” she muttered.

You nodded and turned to call Sam, only to find him standing a few feet behind you. He was barefoot, wearing just a pair of sleep pants and a long sleeve gray v-neck, a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder and a cup of coffee in his hand. He crossed the room to stand beside you in two easy strides, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

“Cara,” he said quietly.

Cara nodded and you could see tears in her eyes. “I, uh…,” she blew a breath out, her bangs lifting off of her forehead. “I thought I’d come by and see if, um, you’d thought about what I said.” She shrugged, glancing at you, then back at Sam. “I guess I know the answer.” 

“It’s over, Cara,” Sam said, his hand tightening noticeably on your waist. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” she whispered. “I guess I was crazy to think differently. Um...take care of yourself, Sam.” She turned to leave.

“Cara, wait,” Sam said abruptly, causing your heart to jump in your chest. He shoved his cup of coffee into your hand, yanked open the closet door behind you and grabbed a box from the floor. He held it out to Cara. “There’s some stuff of yours in here, stuff I’ve found around the house. I thought you might want it back.”

Cara took the box, a tight smile on her face. She nodded again, then hurried down the stairs and across the driveway to her car parked on the street. 

Sam pushed the door closed and took the coffee from your hand. He set it on the table next to the door, then he was pulling you into his arms, hugging you to his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I’m really sorry,” he murmured. “I had no idea she was coming over here. You okay?”

You looked up at him, brushing a hand through his hair and pulling him down to kiss you. “I’m good,” you smiled. 

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I really am. What about you?” You took his hand, squeezing it.

“I’m better than good,” Sam laughed. “Everything I want is right here in front of me.”


End file.
